Tang Feng burst into laughter when he heard the stall owner's words.
"Boss, do you think I'm a fool to be deceived? One piece of Zhang Daqian's calligraphy is worth a hundred thousand? If you have any, I'll take them all. I'll offer you five hundred thousand for each piece, how about that?"
"You..."
The stall owner was immediately choked with anger and abandoned all pretense of dignity, threatening at once, "Kid, I advise you to be sensible, otherwise, do you think you can leave the antique market today?"
As he spoke, four or five burly men squeezed out from the crowd.
Each one was big and burly with a menacing look on their faces.
Tang Feng carefully rolled up Zhang Daqian's calligraphy and looked at the stall owner sidelong, "What? Are you switching from temptation to intimidation now?"
He was only a step away from the stall owner, and was one hundred percent confident that he could subdue him the moment things turned physical.
